Two Good Years
As for my perplexed reaction,
I need a good playing field.
You giving me good playing
has a certain come-uppance,
the silence of which was the
silence of the Nevermind,
the area we both penetrate.
Never mind the era in which
we both penetrated the
Netherlands. Purportedly.
Hold off! Be silent! Catch
your breath, Bill! The
suspension (which was
the truth that was killing
us) had never spoken so
softly, swaying, as it were,
in the hillbilly breeze,
which was full of the
distinctly indecipherable
whispers of that voice.
Said perp (the sotto voce
perp), who hasn’t been
seen (nor heard from)
since either before
or after. During which,
the march.
The long march.
